As adults we get a little smug, don’t we?  We parade around believing we are the teachers; that we have all the answers.  If only our children would listen to us, things would be better.  They should pick up their socks, study harder, watch their money and eat more greens. I should have expected that life would pull the rug out from under me, that another belief would be shattered.  

    It is an undeniable truth that our children teach us as much as we teach them.  Oh sure, we explain how the world works, about science, math, grammar, commerce, economics etc.  But they show us how the heart, soul and spirit work.  They have a resilience in the face of difficulty that puts us to shame, an unshakeable belief in the goodness of human beings.  They find joy in the smallest things, strength in situations that cause adults to crumble and faith when there should be despair.

    Our family has had a hard summer and through it all I have tried to keep steady for the sake of our children.  But as fears had to be faced, realities accepted and a new future forged I thought I was supporting them.  But a strange thing happened.  When I faltered, wept, and stumbled I looked around and realized that they were holding me up.  

    If only we would remember to listen to them as much as we expect them to listen to us, we would be better people.  That and reminding them they still need to pick up their socks.